


Her Partner, Her Protector

by DarkPhoenixGoddess10



Series: Richard and Anne: One-shots [17]
Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 16:39:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2355281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkPhoenixGoddess10/pseuds/DarkPhoenixGoddess10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night when Richard and Anne consummated their marriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Partner, Her Protector

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annetheseamaiden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annetheseamaiden/gifts).



She stood alone in the bedchamber, staring into the hearth.

She wondered what the future holds for her.

_Is this okay?_

She asked herself many times, but she never asked him.

Him—Richard, His Grace the Duke of Gloucester.

Her husband.

Her second husband.

She had endured so much and she was barely sixteen. Her first husband was chosen by her father, Earl of Warwick known as the Kingmaker. The marriage did not even last a year. By now, her father and first husband were slain; her Lancastrian mother-in-law in prison; her mother Lady Anne Beauchamp in sanctuary; and her sister stood by her husband George the Duke of Clarence. From Princess of Wales and future Queen of England, she had fallen to a penniless ward of her brother-in-law George.

She had no future in the hands of George. Her only hope was if her sister Isabel was to die before her and George takes her as his second duchess.

No, she could never marry George.

Not only he was drunk most of the time, his relationship with King Edward was precarious. Anne would never want to be in a dangerous position of facing exile or imprisonment again.

Thus, she set her eyes on Richard, the youngest of the York brothers.

He had yet married; and he was asking for her hand. As romantic as it sounds, Anne knew he’s marrying her for political gain and alliance. Seriously, he had a mistress and already fathered two bastard children. When he first came to see her, or attempted to see her, he brought her a gift—an emerald that supposed to match her eyes.

Her eyes were sapphire blue.

Anne and her ladies laughed at that.

After she escaped from the Clarence’s household and took sanctuary, Richard only came to see her once. He cared more about the possibility of their marriage than her well-being. He only stayed with her for a few minutes, with a huge group of retinue. So much for romance!

Today they exchanged vows, in secret.

The King already gave them his blessing and the papal dispensation had arrived. Yet, Anne could not wait. Sooner she married Richard the better. Dressed in her finest, she sent for Richard and confessed to him of her concerns. What if George acted again? What if someone snatched her away between now and their wedding? They were already betrothed, she pointed out. With the King’s blessing, they could marry each other.

The two fell on their knees and exchanged their vows.

In her heart, she finally felt secure.

And yet, something in her heart was making her nervous.

What if the King finds out?

 _Is this okay?_ She asked herself afterwards. It gave her a moment of panic and discomfort. However, she reminded herself that the King married his Woodville Queen in secret; George and Isabel married without the King’s permission; and the Woodville Queen’s own mother Lady Jacquetta of Rivers also married a squire in secret after the death of her first husband Duke of Bedford. She and Richard, at least, had the King’s permission and they were an equal match—at least to themselves.

As Anne was deep into her thoughts, the chamber’s door opened.

There he was—her husband Richard.

He closed the door behind him and bolted it. Slowly, he approached her.

“Since we have married each other,” he murmured as his fingertips stroked neck. “I surely don’t want to wait.”

He stepped behind her and unlaced her dress. Anne stood very still as the dress pooled by her feet. As his hands were about to pull down the strap of her shift, she suddenly stepped away from him. She never stood naked before a man, not even Edouard of Lancaster. On the night of their wedding, both were in their shifts during the marital consummation. Wrapping her arms around her, Anne said nothing; not even when he untied the ribbon and released her braids.

“You have beautiful hair,” he commented, wrapping strands of her hair around his fingers.

Anne remained silent.

“Why so shy? I’m your husband,” he continued, as he played with her hair. “You know that I will never hurt you. You are my wife and my equal.”

Hearing that, Anne slowly turned around. She looked at him in the eyes and muttered, “We…we are equal, as you said right?”

“Yes,” he replied as he pulled her closer to him.

“Then, can I…” She blushed heavily and looked down. “Can I see you too?”

At first he did not know what she meant, until her fingertips touched his doublet.

“You can,” he replied. “Undress me.”

He took her hand and guided her to unbutton his doublet and slid it off him. Her hands went lower and lower to his breeches. She looked at him as if she was asking his permission. He gave her a nod. Shaking, she unlaced his breeches and pulled them down. She knelt down to unlace his boots, and then removed his boots as he kicked his breeches away. She rose and grabbed the hem of his shirt—the last piece of his clothing. Before she could do anything, he removed his shirt swiftly.

Now he was completely unclothed. His entire body was bare to him.

“Touch,” he said as he pressed her hands against his chest.

She saw the scars on his shoulder and on his muscular arm. Of course, he was a warrior whose martial art training started at age eight. Those scars were his battle records. Her fingers traced his scar and then went down to his torso. She then went behind him and saw his back.

His spine…

She touched his back and traced his spine. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes, at times” he replied. “But not too severely.”

She looked down and saw his rear; her face reddened deeply. His hand grabbed hers.

“Now you have seen my body,” he muttered huskily. “Show me yours.”

She stepped before him wordlessly, slipping her shift off her body and stepping out of her slippers. Her hair was long behind her back; her neck was small; her breasts were round and ample; her nipples were hardened; her waist was narrow; and her legs were long. He stroked her cheek and leaned down to kiss her as he gathered her into his arms. A shiver went down to her spine when his lips crushed into hers.

He pressed her body against his as she wrapped her arms around him. She stroked his back and enjoyed the warmth of his body.

Swiftly, he picked her up and carried her to bed.

Their bed.

She lied on her back as he cupped her breast and caressed her neck with his lips. She curved her back when he lowered his head to suck her breast and his finger went to her feminine part to stroke her sex. She gasped when he slipped one finger inside her.

His lips traveled from her breasts to her belly. Pulling his fingers out, he climbed over her and pulled her legs apart as he entered her. It wasn’t her first time, but it had been months since she was taken by a man. She cried out in pleasure; her legs tightly wrapped around him and her nails dug into his back.

He continued to thrust into her as he caressed her breast and showered her face with kisses. Holding her arms over her head, he thrust into her harder and harder until they reached climax, moaning and breathing heavily. Catching his breath, he rested his head against her breasts while she played with his dark curls. The lovemaking was…nothing like she expected. It was not for duty; but it was for pleasure and desire.

And love.

“Come here,” he whispered. He shifted his body so that he was lying on his back. He had her straddling him.

“Richard?” Anne was a little confused. What was she supposed to do?

“Kiss me,” he said.

Leaning down, she kissed him gently on the nose and then on the lips. Her kisses were so gentle as if she was afraid to hurt him. She moved down to kiss him on the chest and then his stomach. He giggled when her lips caressed his stomach, which surprised her.

“Ticklish?” She asked teasingly.

He did not answer her. Caressing her buttocks, he had her sit on his crotch. “Ride me.”

She never tried this position before.

It gave her excitement. It gave her pleasure. It made her feel free.

He cupped her breasts and rubbed her nipples as her body moved against him. The lovemaking ended with him rising up to suck her nipples and her holding his head against her breasts. They held on to each other for a long time.

***

She quietly lied in his arms. Stroking his chest, she closed her eyes and listened to the rhythm of his heart. His arms were around her like protective castles. Touching skin to skin, her heart was beating about his.

Like he said, they were equal.

They were one.

He was not her lord husband, but her protector.

Her partner.

Her equal.

Her love.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on a prompt from Annelise. At the same time, it is heavily influenced by the wedding episode of "Outlander" (another Starz show). I was like...it reminds me so much of Richard and Anne's wedding night in TWQ - only longer and steamier. Come on! Richard and Anne deserved better!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like this fic!


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